The Fourth Dimension
by violentmangoes
Summary: At the end of the war both sides are almost obliterated, leading Harry and Hermione to travel back in time in a final attempt to save their loved ones once and for all by "saving" Tom Riddle himself, what they did not expect was that maybe they too needed saving. (Mostly follows Deathly Hallows except for the ending and epilogue obviously!)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi there!**

 **So this is my first story so be gentle (ish, don't hold back if you really feel it needs to be said) and enjoy (hopefully!)**

 **Disclaimer- For whole story:**

 **I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.**

 **Thanks.**

* * *

It was raining. Somehow this seemed fitting, and Hermione did not bother to bring her coat, deciding instead to endure the cold water for a while as she kneeled before the large headstone in front of her. It was the least she could do in their honour after all.

Her eyes swept over the names engraved in gold into the marble stone. Her parents' names.

The familiar saying that no parents should have to bury their child sprang to her mind as she read their death dates. Exhaling slowly through her nose, she brushed a few browning mushy petals off ground beneath the pot of flowers and thought to herself about how the saying should be amended to "nobody should have to bury anybody they loved." Wincing internally at the past tense she had already began to use when referring to the people she knew who had died in the war, Hermione checked around briefly for any muggles in the vicinity before silently casting a spell to keep the flowers on the grave fresh eternally. She did not after all know when, or indeed if, she would be back. If all went to plan, this would not be a problem, but if not… It felt wrong to leave without some token.

Suddenly, Hermione became aware of the fact she could no longer feel the rain pouring down on her and was warmer. Glancing upwards she realised her best friend Harry was here already. He smiled sadly down at her, holding an umbrella aloft above them and slipping his wand into his pocket (clearly having just cast the charm over her which had warmed her so).

"Are you sure you want to do this Mione?" He asked as he watched her silently stand and turn away from the grave.

"Yes." Hermione replied almost at once in a small voice, not trusting herself to say anything more than that just yet.

"Okay." Harry said simply, holding out his arm for her, which she gratefully took before they walked back towards the gate she had come through earlier.

"Harry…" Hermione began before breaking off, biting her lip and looking down at the door mat to the house they were about to enter.

"We can do this." He told her, instantly knowing the doubts, fears, worries and concerns she had been about to express. During and after the war both sides had lost many loved ones. Her parents, Arthur Weasley, Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Snape, Ginny and Ron to name but a few. Factor in the countless innocent and unnamed muggle victims and you had a huge bloodbath on your hands. In this time Hermione and Harry had been thrown together and become even closer than they had previously been.

"I just can't help but worry I've got it wrong and… What if we make it worse than it was?"

"There's just as good a chance we are going to make it a lot better." He whispered, and without him having to say it Hermione knew he was thinking of Ginny, Ron and his family… All of which he was not given enough time with.

"Okay then." She conceded, and they peered around them before Harry murmured Alohomora and they slipped inside the small detached cottage like house.

"Lumos!" The dark hallway was filled with light, illuminated by their wands which they'd lit in unison. The pools of light revealed the cluttered but cosy layout of a family home which had been left empty for the past week or so. Which was correct, this family being on holiday in Egypt (thanks to the carefully timed "Adventure Holiday" prize letter that had arrived three days before Harry and Hermione planned to "borrow" this house.

They'd needed a place to stay near to the graves and out of the way enough that they could perform the complex magic they needed to accomplish their mission. Hermione had originally suggested they camp in a tent like they had done when hunting Horcruxes in their seventh year. Harry however had told her about how Slughorn used to move around from house to house whilst avoiding the Death Eaters. He never stayed anywhere longer than a week and restored the house to its prior state before leaving. At first Hermione had been reluctant, feeling it to be morally questionable, but she'd been easily swayed when Harry Pointed out what they were trying to achieve would ultimately make everything a lot better for muggles worldwide in the long run.

It was almost uncanny how many of Dumbledore's mannerisms Harry had adopted after the war, at times when they felt happier, Hermione would tease him and say before long he'd be growing a long white beard and switching his round glasses for half-moon spectacles. One of the more obvious distinctly Dumbledore-ish ways he'd taken on as of late was the idea of the "greater good". The old Harry would deliberate too long about sacrifices, in his fifth year he'd been willing to hand the prophecy back to Lucius Malfoy in order to save his friends. War hardened people though, and while he was still a good friend, Hermione sometimes missed the Harry who would never risk the life of a friend for a cause, no matter how good said cause was.

They had chosen this house specifically because it met all the needs they had in mind when they'd poured over all their notes and research. Not only was it near the graves (though naturally this had been high up on both of their lists) but it was also one of the few houses in this area which had still been standing in 1942. Unless of course they had gotten everything awfully wrong and were about to appear in an unknown area.

Putting all this from her mind, Hermione focused on the task at hand. Walking through to the kitchen she waved her wand upwards, sending the ball of light at the end of her wand up to the light on the ceiling instead.

"Accio flask." Harry called behind her, and she stepped aside slightly to allow the flask to fly past her into Harry's outstretched hand so that he could catch it.

"Still got the seeker reflexes." She grinned at him, though it didn't quite reach her hands.

The seriousness of what they were about to undertake had hit her and as she reached for the bags and trunks she'd left there ready for them she felt her previous anxieties began to leave her. It had already been this way for her in the war. Making the plans and the build-up were the worst part for her, but once the plans actually began to be put into place she began to relax.

Pulling the time turner out of her coat pocket she moved towards Harry once more, standing on tip toe so as to encircle them both in the intricate device. Harry's hand was shaking slightly as he tried to undo the flask, so she gently extended a hand to steady his before tapping the lid with her wand.

"Bottoms up." Harry half smiled, pouring his measure into the cup from the flask (a cheap plastic buy from a muggle supermarket nearby) and handing her the bottle.

The potion had taken weeks to prepare, though nowhere near as long as the time turner had needed to be procured. Most of the time turners had been destroyed at the end of their fifth year thanks to the disturbance in the department of mysteries, but mercifully McGonagall had (on Dumbledore's orders) kept the time tuner that Hermione had used in her third year.

If they'd been unsure whether they should attempt this at all, their fears had been lessened when they heard this from McGonagall herself. As Harry had pointed out, Dumbledore seemed to have known there was a possibility this would be needed.

Downing the potion in one gulp, and forcing herself to keep down the vile flavour (which was not entirely masked with the honey the potions book had recommended), Hermione watched Harry do the same before she took a deep breath and began to turn the time turner backwards. The potion they'd drank was a strengthening potion, designed to intensify any magic used in relation to its drinker. This meant it was also dangerous, so much could go wrong. After taking the potion the effects could last for up to twelve hours afterwards, meaning even a weak disarming charm could be enough to do permanent brain damage. In the quantity Harry and Hermione needed for this to work… said weak spell could kill them. For this reason they'd need to be on their guard when they arrived, lest an unsuspecting witch or wizard hexed them upon sight due to their sudden appearance.

It also meant that Hermione had to make sure she did the exact amount of turns necessary and no more or less on the time turner. In normal circumstances doing one or two extra would not be a big deal but with this potion it could be the difference of years or perhaps even more.

"Finished." She breathed, clutching the bags and trunk close to her and holding the time turner steady in her other hand.

All around them the room spun rapidly, the scene changing each second, people coming and going until the very walls of the house around them began to come down, till they were left out in the open, the space around them finally slowing till eventually it stopped and everything around them stilled once more.

* * *

 **So yeah, not much happened here I suppose, but I needed to set the scene somewhat, hope you enjoyed and I'll post the next chapter soon.** **x**


	2. Chapter 2

"Did we make it?" Harry whispered after a moment or so had passed in silence, whilst Hermione fumbled with the clasp on the time turner.

"I'm not sure…" She replied, finally succeeding in freeing them from the thin golden chain and tucking it into her pocket once more.

"Well, only one way to find out." Harry said after another silent moment passed by them, before taking some of the bags and moving towards the hallway, Hermione trailing behind him, looking around the walls around them. Her research appeared to be correct as this house was still standing around them and was clearly uninhabited, the walls which were covered with pictures and certificates etc. in the present day were now bare and not painted in the cream colour they were when they'd first come to this house. Shaking her head slightly as they stepped carefully out of the front door (Harry proceeding her and checking outside first), Hermione reminded herself that as they had no gone back in time "technically" this was their "first" time seeing this house.

"All clear." Harry murmured, leading them down the small pathway and out of the gate. They'd only gone a few feet when they spotted a couple holding hands and talking to a man in a suit who was holding a stack of papers and talking animatedly about something. The closer they got they caught words such as "Light airy kitchen" and "Kitchen garden". As they passed the couple they nodded briefly to them before continuing on their way.

The minute they had gone past Hermione turned and looked back at them, sure enough they had stopped in front of the small cottage like house she and Harry had just left.

"That was close." She breathed, glancing back at Harry.

"Never mind that… Did you see their clothes?" Harry began excitedly whilst Hermione nodded, allowing herself a smile too.

"We must have made it."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, as they set off once more.

For a while they simply walked in companionable silence, only speaking briefly to point out interesting points of scenery or other points of interest which had either changed so dramatically they felt bound to make a comment on them; or else had stayed exactly the same causing a smile. A great example of this was a small sweetshop down a side street, which still bore the proud imaginative name of "Sweetshop". The only difference between this shop and its more modern counterpart was that this version bore a fresher layer of paint and had more old fashioned sweets in its windows. Spotting a series of small plaques of card in the advertisement section of the window Hermione indicated this to Harry and they both stepped closer to read what they said.

 _FOR SALE:_

 _Table and chairs set – like new – see seller for details._

 _LOST:_

 _Small brown dog, answers to "Frankie"._

The list was endless, however one thing which was the same was the year scrawled next to the date.

1942.

"We really did make it! 1942 Harry!" Hermione gasped, before blushing when a nearby woman who had just left the shop gave her a funny look. Chuckling lightly Harry placed his arm around her and smiled politely to the woman.

"Excuse my wife, she likes to play silly games every so often." He offered by way of explanation, before and asking her if she knew the way to train station.

After the woman had given them some vague directions he thanked her and watched as she set off walking back the way they had already come. No sooner than she had left Hermione mock punched Harry on his arm and glared up at him.

"What was that for?!" He hissed, rubbing his arm.

"I don't play silly games!" Hermione responded tartly, before marching away.

"That's what that was for?" Harry asked sounding confused, "I thought it was obvious Mione… We are in 1942… It's just fitting with the time for me to talk like that about you."

Realising he was right, Hermione felt herself blushing more than before and slowed her walk somewhat to match Harry's.

"Whatever." She mumbled after a while, causing him to laugh beside her as they followed the directions given them by the woman.

They reached the station in good time, but still hurried through the various stations till they reached the one they were looking for. From the information Harry had relayed to her on the life of Voldemort, it was likely he would already be here anyway, probably had been all morning. Sure enough, no sooner had they come through the barrier (having seized a brief moment when the station guard had turned to point a woman with two children in the other direction for them to lean against the wall and slowly sink through it) than they spotted a dark haired boy sat in one of the carriages, already wearing his Hogwarts robes and looking intently at a book he was reading, his pale hands linked together around the binding as he held the book carefully, as though it were a precious thing not be treated lightly. Nudging Harry gently by lightly tapping him with her hand Hermione looked pointedly at the carriage till Harry also noticed him.

In that moment it seemed Harry froze up, staring at the man – no boy – who had gone on to kill so many people.

"I can't believe he looks so normal." Harry whispered, still watching Tom Riddle. As though his name had been called, Riddle chose this minute to look up and out of the window as though he had heard himself being summoned. As his eyes settled on Harry and Hermione, the latter who had nervously turned to look at Harry having expected his scar to hurt him. Harry seemed to share her sentiment and confusion appeared on his face as he ran a hand over his scar as though checking it was still there.

"I can't feel anything." Harry admitted after a while, looking back to Hermione as Riddle returned to his book.

"He's not connected to you yet Harry." Hermione breathed in relief, allowing a smile to break out across her face which had gone very white as she watched and waited.

"That means we have a chance right?" Harry asked, "If he was destined to become evil and kill my parents I'd feel it regardless of time right? I felt it hurt in the chamber of secrets…" Hermione wasn't sure if they could bank on that, but she knew they needed to think somewhat positive and keep in mind the fact he hadn't done those crimes yet if they were to stop them from ever happening.

With this in mind, Hermione tapped the carriage door with her wand causing it to swing open allowing them to climb inside. They'd rehearsed practically every scenario countless times before coming here, and Harry nodded to Hermione once they were inside before setting off ahead of her towards the carriage they'd seen him in.

"Mind if we sit here?" Harry asked Riddle as he slid the carriage door open, not waiting for an answer he beamed at him and took a seat opposite him. Ignoring the look of frustration on the face of the future Dark Lord, Harry held out his hand tentatively and introduced himself. Nodding, Tom slowly moved to shake his hand, dropping it after one single shake and returning to his book.

"Harry?!" Hermione called from down the corridor, waiting for Harry to respond before setting off at a run after the direction she'd seen him go.

"There you are!" She called brightly when she arrived at the carriage Harry was now sitting comfortably in. Tom Riddle was now glaring at the text in his book, as though he felt two interruptions in the past five minutes was more than he could take.

"This is my cousin, Hermione." Harry said, indicating Hermione who was now sitting beside him.

"He ran off at the first chance of course and left me to find my own way." Hermione scolded, glaring at Harry jokingly before turning to Tom.

"Pleased to meet you Mr..?"

"Riddle." Tom muttered as though it cost him dearly to admit this.

"What are you reading there?" She asked his, tilting her head to the side to try to view the title better from another angle.

"It's a potions book." He said somewhat irritably, jerking the book shut and folding his arms around it.

"Can I have a look at it?" Hermione began sweetly, "Please." She added noticing he was on the verge of declining.

Slowly, as though it was costing him even more than admitting his name had, he reluctantly revealed the title of the book.

"Moste Potente Potions" Hermione read aloud before looking back at Tom, "That's a good read." She admitted carefully, wanting to observe his reaction. In reality, Hermione had hated that book and was glad to be rid of it after finishing the Polyjuice potion in their second year. The book was full of very dark, almost medieval in their design, potions which were created by dark magic.

"You've read it?" Tom asked looking surprised, as though he had not been expecting that.

"You'd be hard pressed to find a book she hasn't read!" Harry laughed, leaning back on his chair.

"I needed it for reference." Hermione explained shrugging, "Sorry for caring about my education."

"What were you researching?" Tom now looked intrigued and had set the book down properly. It would appear the conversation had finally interested him. Harry watched Hermione closely, wondering how she would respond.

"I was looking up Polyjuice potion."

"Right," Harry snorted, causing both Hermione and Tom to look at him, "She left out the part where she successfully brewed it without any help in her second year!"

"What house are you in?"

Taking a deep breath Hermione bit down the urge to say Gryffindor, and simply shrugged.

"We are transfer students, we haven't been sorted yet."

If this information was shocking to Tom (as it should have been given that Hogwarts rarely had transfers and definitely not in this time period) he did not show it and merely went on to demand another question.

"What year are you in then?" The way he spoke was almost like he was giving a command, and Hermione had to supress a shudder as she noted this. Judging from Harry's somewhat twisted expression beside her she gathered he'd recognised this as well.

"Sixth" she made herself respond, deciding to ignore it for now.

"Me too," he began, before pausing as though battling himself, "Perhaps we will have classes together."

 _I bet we will,_ Hermione thought to herself, she was planning to take so many subjects that this would be practically guaranteed. She could hardly say this though, so she simply nodded and smiled.

Seemingly satisfied with this as a conversation Tom nodded too before turning back to his book.

Taking out her own book Hermione tried to make herself concentrate on the words printed on the paper to distract herself from the unnerving idea of sharing a carriage and making small talk with the boy Voldemort.

Harry appeared restless for a moment, twirling his wand between his fingers for a while until he looked up out of the window and noted (aloud) that others were arriving now.

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 **Yay, I finished another chapter! I'm not going to have Tom jump into a relationship with anybody or have him suddenly go fluffy and cuddly, I'm just trying to establish the fact that he is inquisitive and already has the knack for ordering/demanding or just generally being used to being a leader and having people obey him.**

 **Thanks for reading. x**


	3. Chapter 3

Sometime into their journey on the Hogwarts Express, Harry stood up and pointed out that they should get changed into their robes, reaching up to the rack above the carriage chairs to extract a slightly rumpled pack of robes.

Hermione caught Tom watching them carefully over the top of his book, surveying them intently though trying not to appear to do so. Upon catching her eyes however he ducked his gaze back down to his book, though she very much doubted he was actually reading it.

Smirking internally at this thought Hermione reached for her own robes from her case. Naturally she located them easier than Harry; having mastered packing charms in their year running around trying to hunt Horcruxes.

Harry had already been wearing a shirt and his black pants, meaning he simply added a tie and slipped his robe on over the top of his head before balling up his muggle jacket and throwing it back in the case. Returning to his seat he leant against the window, drumming his fingertips along the window frame as he peered out into the lashing rain beating down on the somewhat miserable looking countryside.

"Aren't you going to use the changing room?" Tom burst out after a moment, a faint tinge of pink on his high cheekbones, not looking at either of them.

"Changing rooms?" Hermione asked in shock, not having heard of these being on the train before.

Abandoning all pretence of reading his book, Tom pushed it to the side and glared up at her.

"Yes." He answered simply, standing up and holding the door open for her. Looking unsure, Hermione bit her lip and glanced back to Harry before following him. Harry watched them go uncomfortably, looking not entirely sure how he felt about this situation.

Once in the corridor thoughts began racing through her brain about the predicament she was in.

Sure Harry's scar wasn't hurting, and this was usually the measure of when "Voldemort" was near. It wasn't a simply guarantee that this meant he was currently not a threat, but rather the result of nothing in this time had yet connecting them. Ignoring this unpleasant thought, Hermione took a deep breath and followed him.

"You and your cousin have a peculiar relationship." Tom remarked, not seeming to require an answer, merely stating something he had observed. Shrugging, Hermione decided it couldn't hurt to feed him a portion of the truth to make him feel like they had truly accepted him.

"We have just been through a lot together I suppose."

Looking back at her, Tom frowned slightly as though wishing to know more but somewhat frustrated by this fact in the same moment.

The rest of their walk passed in silence, and as they passed a gaggle of Hufflepuff girls clustered together looking very "giggly", Tom indicated the door at the end of the corridor they had been walking down.

"Just through there." He promised, "I trust you can find the way back?" Without waiting for an answer he nodded at her and turned back the way he had come. Rolling her eyes at his arrogant stride down the corridor Hermione hurried in the direction he had indicated and rushed to get changed.

* * *

When the train finally pulled in at the station, Tom stood up quicker than both Harry and Hermione, sparing them a brief glance and nod before setting off. Watching him from the glass doors of the carriage Hermione saw him pin a badge to his robes and walk purposefully off the train.

"I forgot he's a prefect!" Harry said behind her, clearly having been watching him too.

They were one of the last few off the train, and took advantage of this situation to hold a brief whispered conversation.

"He's already just as demanding and manipulative." Harry huffed under his breath under the pretence of coughing.

"We can still stop it." Hermione replied just as quietly as they approached the Thestral drawn carriages.

Stopping briefly Hermione shook herself as she took in the winged skeletal beasts pawing at the ground in front of them and watching the students apprehensively. Wondering why she had stopped, Harry poked his head out of the carriage he'd started to climb into. The question already formed on his lips, but dying instantly when he saw what she was looking at.

"Best not to think about it." He told her gently, extending a hand down to help her inside.

Accepting his hand and allowing herself to be pulled inside, Hermione sat close to the window, still watching the creatures which began to move their carriage forward by instinct when the door was shut behind them.

She knew Harry was right, they had a mission to work on, and dwelling on the fact the war meant she could now see Thestrals was a sure way to fail in what they were currently trying to achieve. It wasn't very easy to simply "not think about it" as he'd directed.

The road up to the castle was a lot bumpier than it was in their day, and Hermione was glad she had not purchased snacks on the trolley like Harry had, he was now starting to look distinctly queasy in the chair opposite her. It was probably not helped by the fact they were riding in silence with two Ravenclaw boys who were determinedly avoiding looking at them leaving little doubt that they had not been welcome in this carriage.

Eventually the ride was over and they slowed to a stop outside the large oak front doors, and for the first time since they had travelled back in time, Hermione felt herself truly relax, not even having to fake the contented smile and sigh as she stepped outside and stared with reverence at the doors like they were her personal saviours.

It truly felt like she was coming home.

* * *

"Excuse me Sir, would you mind if we had a quick word?"

Dumbledore had been instantly recognisable to them the minute they laid eyes on him. His robes (though more current with the 1940's style) carried with them a distinctly "Dumbledore-ish" aura to them with their long sweeping style and pale blue cloak wrapped around a set of red and green robes. He'd finished it off with a yellow hat rimmed in purple along the edge. Supressing a giggle, Hermione realised he was wearing all the house colours in one outfit. Although his beard was not as long as it was in their day, it still looked rather grand as it came to just below his shoulders and was a handsome tawny colour.

Upon hearing their request, he turned to face them and they noted he was wearing his usual half-moon spectacles and his eyes still had that famous twinkle in them.

"Yes? What may I do for you?" he inquired.

Hermione and Harry paused, looking at each other and nodding together before suggesting it would be better explained in private.

Looking intrigued, Dumbledore held out an arm indicating a small door to his left.

It took almost an hour to explain the whole thing to Dumbledore, not helped by the fact every so often they broke off looking awkward, trying their hardest not to reveal something too specific about the future.

Eventually, they'd finished, and Dumbledore leaned against the table behind him, stroking his chin slowly as if deep in thought whilst Harry and Hermione waited awkwardly with bated breath, hoping that he would understand and help them. He was after all, their only hope of pulling off being enrolled in Hogwarts.

"I take it you have thought up a cover story?" Dumbledore asked them. Nodding quickly, Hermione reached into her bag to pull out the papers her and Harry had made before they got here. It had been hard to procure the official ministry documents detailing how they were orphans and referencing there previous education and grades attained, but it had been even harder to make a strong enough glamour on them to change the dates and names involved.

"These are most impressive." Dumbledore proclaimed after reading over them.

"Hermione always was the brightest witch of her age." Harry beamed, causing her to blush bright red under the praise and the new way the headmaster looked at her, as if X-raying her.

Whatever it was he did, he seemed satisfied when he looked away.

"Come, I do believe we have missed the ceremony but we will go to see the headmaster about getting you sorted." Then he paused, "Again." He added as an afterthought. Blinking Hermione attempted to wrap her head around the idea Dumbledore was not headmaster in this era, merely a Professor.

"This will take some getting used to huh?" Harry asked her on their way out.

* * *

 **Think it is slightly shorter, but oh well. I tried. I'm very tired and need to sleep as I have work tomorrow haha. Hope you enjoyed it. x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to the two guest who reviewed, and also to Kazetoame. In answer to your question, yes it would be better or more ideal if they went back earlier, but I needed them to have been through the war in order to spur them onto looking for a final last ditch attempt at saving people, as otherwise they'd just focus on trying to kill him in the present day. Because of this they would be seventeen and almost eighteen (if not already eighteen). There's a chance they could pass off as a sixth or seventh year at a push, but not somebody from an earlier year. They could have used a spell or potion to appear younger but A. The potion which strengthened the potency of such may have made this dangerous in the beginning, and B. there is always the chance something could go wrong, (for example like when Barty Crouch Jr used this idea in Goblet of Fire).**

 **Anyway, hope that helped.**

 **I'm introducing Tom as a POV character now in this chapter, however I probably won't use his POV as much as Hermione's, only when it's necessary.**

 **Anyway, here you go, hope you enjoy it. x**

* * *

After the feast Hermione and Harry and Hermione hung back to follow Tom and the fellow Slytherin prefect (a tall girl with her hair pulled back into one long braid and an expression reminiscent of Snape in its glare) as they directed first years to the common rooms.

Hermione caught Harry looking almost longingly at the Gryffindor table across the room which was also emptying slowly. Knowing instantly how he felt, she offered him a smile as they began to file out of the hall.

When they had walked into the hall with Dumbledore, it was to discover the ceremony had in fact only just finished, so the Headmaster of the time had simply told them to hurry along and come and be sorted now so they could eat. Harry had gone first, the hat hardly paused in declaring him a Slytherin, it was something it had always wanted after all, and now Harry was not resisting it, probably even hoping as it would give them a better chance at succeeding.

Hermione waited until he was sat down at the Slytherin table (where applause had erupted as he had been declared one of them) before placing the hat on her head. She'd grown a lot since she last wore it, and it no longer obscured all her vision. It still smelt like the same old unwashed leather though she thought grimly as it began to talk to her.

"Another person I have sorted before, tell me Miss Granger, are you going to tell me where you want to be put as well?" It asked in a somewhat amused tone, however before she could respond it had simply shouted out "SLYTHERIN!" to the rest of the hall and she eagerly took the hat off, replacing it on the stool and blushing as she took her seat beside Harry on her new house table.

The first time she had been sorted the hat had been torn between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but had eventually settled on Gryffindor owing to what the hat described as a thirst to prove herself and the courage to do so. Naturally she wondered how this had suddenly changed and she'd been sorted into what was dubbed the complete opposite of Gryffindor. Slytherins could be brave of course, but they would favour the chance to save themselves in a complicated situation. Realising this, Hermione felt that her and Harry's desire to save themselves from the dark world and pain of the future was what had made them Slytherin. The fact they were planning to trick Riddle into learning to love and become his friends (thus stopping his main problem at the root) also contributed to the famous Slytherin trait of being cunning also.

Forcing herself back to the present in case she continued up to the Gryffindor tower out of habit, Hermione sped up to catch the end of the first years who were staring around them in awe as they passed portraits. Some of the more confident ones waved cheerfully to the pictures who watched them as they passed, whereas others simply watched them warily.

"This is entrance to the Slytherin common room," Hermione heard Tom say, causing her to pay fuller attention now so as to catch the password, "You'll need to know the password to gain access, tonight it is 'anguis', but it will be changed this weekend so you'll need to pay attention."

"There will be a sign put up on the noticeboard before it is changed." The other prefect added, though she did not look pleased about having to assist.

"And I thought it was just the Riddle charm on the train!" Harry muttered under his breath, causing Hermione to giggle, not helped when Tom Riddle glared across the room at them.

"Slytherin charm." She whispered back to Harry, biting her lip to keep from laughing as they all walked into the middle of the common room.

Harry had been in here before in their second year with Ron to interrogate Malfoy, so he did not seem too interested in what the new room looked like. Hermione however had never set foot into another House Common room before and was looking all around, her eyes darting from one thing to another in order to take it all in as quickly as possible.

She gathered they must be under the lake as the entire room had an almost green water like quality which shimmered on the dark stone walls. Just like in the Gryffindor common room, the Slytherins had chosen to proudly display their house colours on almost every surface. The walls had embroidered tapestries in shades of green depicting various scenes throughout history, and the portraits hung on the walls featured stern looking Professors all dressed in similar colours. There was a fireplace in the centre of the largest wall, but no squashy armchairs surrounded it.

"Girls dormitory is down to the left, boys up to your right." Tom told everybody, offering them what seemed to be a smile, though Hermione wasn't sure as it didn't truly reach his eyes.

"You two," he called next, striding over to where Hermione had drifted towards the bookshelves by the window and had been peering at the titles, "Same direction but you'll have to carry on a bit further along the corridors till you reach the sixth year dorms."

"Cool, well…" Harry began, stretching, "I'm going to bed." He announced, nodding at Tom before turning to Hermione, "Don't stay up reading too late Mione."

Hermione simply glared at him as he left, flipping him off from behind, forgetting for a moment where she was. Of course, she was instantly reminded when she caught Tom staring at her in shock. Grinning somewhat nervously up at him, she attempted to distract him with the books.

"Are we allowed to borrow them?" she questioned, waving a hand at the shelves behind her.

"Yes." He told her, moving in closer, causing her breath to hitch somewhat (although she didn't want to admit it). Looking down at her in confusion he reached out and plucked a book from the shelf somewhere close to her ear. Letting out a breath she did not realise she had been holding, Hermione hastily stepped away from him slightly and turned to choose a book herself whilst wondering what had come over her. Unfortunately this meant she missed the smirk on his face as he made to walk towards his own dormitory.

* * *

TOM POV:

"Care to explain what took you so long?" Tom whispered into the seemingly empty dark, although he knew full well exactly who was lurking in the shadows.

"Apologies My Lord, we were ju-"

"I do not care for your excuses," Tom interrupted, flicking his wand in the direction of the voice causing whoever was there to whimper quietly as they stepped forward.

"It will not happen again." They promised.

Satisfied, Tom turned to address the room at large.

"I have a new task for you all to perform." He told them, pausing to allow this to sink in before continuing, "Hopefully you were not all too stupid that you did not notice the two transfer students." A series of mumbled acknowledgements took place and he waited for them to die down before getting to the heart of what he wanted them to do.

"I want to know everything you can find out about them, at our next meeting I hope to hear a detailed report from all of you."

For a moment there was silence as everybody in the room processed what he was asking of them and finally one person spoke up. Abraxas Malfoy, his pale blonde hair glinting in the dimly lit circle they were all stood around.

"My Lord… Forgive me but why, may I ask, do we need to know about them?" Tom remained mute, wanting to hear what else he had to say. Seeming to take the lack of response for consideration of his thoughts, the fool continued, "Wouldn't it be more…prudent for us to continue our search for the-"

"I do believe I made what I think prudent right now very clear Malfoy." Tom hissed in the warning tone he often found himself having to use with these people. It was the tone which warned them to remain silent and do his will if they knew what was good for them.

After this, there was a noticeable shift in the room as the others began to feed him back the reports he had asked of them last time. It would seem Dumbledore, the old fool, was just as suspicious of him as ever and the other Professors were right where he wanted them.

At the end of the meeting, Tom stood up and restored the room to how it had been before they'd used it and returned swiftly to his dormitory. His status as a prefect was very useful for his late night meetings, it gave him the permission to be seen wandering the school at night past curfew without questions being asked. The excuse of performing his "rounds" washed with any teacher except Dumbledore of course. For this reason he still took care to avoid as many people as possible in the corridors late at night lest the old codger receive news he was prowling the school after curfew.

When he made it back to the common room, he spotted that new transfer girl, Hermione, still reading by the book shelf, sitting in a cross-legged position and appearing fascinated by the large book she currently held.

She was plain to look at really, he thought, the only remarkable thing about her being the somewhat wild mane of hair which currently hung over her face so he could not see her expression. He was intrigued by her and her cousin Harry, they claimed to be from another school, but not once had they mentioned its name. They also seemed too familiar with the building and had not stopped to ogle in awe at the moving stairs or portraits like so many of the other stupid first years they'd walked down here with. Then there was her over confidence, her vulgar gesture to her cousin. Occasionally he'd caught that Harry staring at him almost sadly, or like he expected him to snap like he was a loose cannon. At first he'd thought he was imagining it, but he'd caught these glances too many times. It was like being with Dumbledore. They would smile at you and act friendly enough, but there was a continual underlying feeling of distrust and horror which they seemed to be trying to hide form him. This would maybe work on some other idiot in the castle, but he was no mere idiot and was accomplished enough at Occlumency himself to recognise somebody else trying to cover things up.

Coming back down to earth, Tom saw Hermione looking up at him in confusion from her spot on the floor. Cursing himself for how this must look and how stupid he'd been getting caught up in his thoughts like that, he nodded at her and made to walk off.

"Where have you been?" She demanded, quickly getting to her feet, closing the book.

He should hex her for that, he would not have hesitated if one of his death eaters had addressed him in such a manner. Scratch that, he'd probably kill them. He couldn't kill her yet though, he needed to get to the bottom of what her and her cousin were doing here first. This would be significantly harder if they were dead.

"I had rounds to do. The first night always brings an excess of frivolity for the Gryffindors." He told her instead, which she seemed to accept.

"Oh well… I…" She seemed to struggle for words, spluttering for a while before finally shaking her head, "Goodnight then." She managed, offering him a final smile before leaving him alone as she passed him on the way to the dormitory.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the delay in updating, I've been away for a week and had no access to a computer, but I was able to use my phone and reading the reviews made me super happy.**

 **I use a tiny bit of French in this chapter, I took it for A level so there may still be some errors, and the translation is written after it in bold. It's not much French, just a little to add weight to Hermione's "backstory" and you could probably figure it out easily enough.**

* * *

Hermione POV 

"What lessons do you have today Mione?" Harry asked her the following morning as he ladled porridge into his silver bowl, having just finished reading his own timetable.

"Potions." Hermione replied, swallowing the bite of toast she'd been chewing. After a year on the run where they'd scarcely had enough, let alone quality food, being able to once again eat the delicious food at Hogwarts was something she was still savouring.

"That'll be interesting." Harry offered, sounding somewhat unconvinced.

"Mmm, what do you have?" She knew Harry had opted out of potions, having only survived a year of NEWT level due to having the Half Blood Prince's book to assist him. As this book did not yet exist in this era it seemed pointless to take a subject he would surely fail, regardless of the fact the absence of the book also meant an absence of Snape.

"Free period!" Harry grinned at her, "I think I'm gonna see about borrowing one of the school brooms and maybe having a fly." Catching her look of disapproval he rolled he added defensively, "I haven't flown in ages!"

After they'd finished breakfast Harry cheerfully waved her goodbye, eager to be out flying, and Hermione set off for the dungeons (again) for her first lesson in this year.

A few other Slytherins were also headed in the same direction, along with several Ravenclaws. Neither of them spoke to each other, and the class filed inside the classroom silently.

"Ahh, Miss Potter, do come in." Boomed Slughorn when he had spotted her hovering at the back of the class waiting to see where there was an available space for her to quietly slide into, preferably with somebody competent at potions rather than the usual space she had to occupy back in her time with Neville. Hermione was all for helping people, but sometimes it got ridiculous when she became responsible for their potion and ended up neglecting her own in the process.

"Now… Where shall we sit you?" He asked, scanning the room to find a space, "Ah! I know!" Pointing a podgy finger at the table to his right he called out "Crabbe, move, I want Miss Potter to sit near the front." Secretly, Hermione was pleased. Sitting where Crabbe had been put her on the Slytherin table, meaning she was on the same table as Tom. The others on the table included somebody she could only assume to be a Malfoy (his sleek blonde hair gave him away), somebody with a bad perm and the Slytherin prefect, who scowled before looking away.

Calling the class to order, though nobody was being particularly noisy, Slughorn explained to them their task for the day.

"The skilled potion maker is able to use whatever ingredients are available to him at the time and know how to place them together in such a way that they'll be of some use," he began, smiling round at them all, "So for today's lesson I am going to ask you to partner up and read over the list of ingredients I shall be giving you presently," he waved his wand at a stack of parchment laying on his desk, which moved to hover beside him, ready to be doled out, "I'll let you choose your partners for this lesson till I can see who I'll be assigning to work together."

Out of habit, Hermione felt herself sit up a little straighter as he said this, it was her almost inbuilt reaction whenever a teacher was setting them off on a task. She hadn't come to this time for the schoolwork, but she was definitely bent on enjoying that while she was here too.

"Will you do me the honour of working with me Miss Potter?" Internally Hermione cringed, no doubt in her mind that the blonde haired boy was a Malfoy after hearing his sleek and smarmy voice. It was clearly a tone which ran in the family.

"Of course Mr..?"

"Malfoy." He smiled, "Abraxas Malfoy." The way he introduced himself reminded Hermione of the muggle character James Bond. In all honesty, the obvious wealth and no doubt string of women (if Draco Malfoy was anything like his ancestors) made him quite similar to said character.

Glancing over at Tom under the pretence of simply looking around the room, Hermione saw him move his chair closer to the Slytherin prefect (who went on scowling) in a silent gesture that they would be working together to Slughorn.

"Everybody partnered up? Excellent!" At the final word, the parchment stack began to move among the students, depositing themselves onto the desk in front of the partners. Hermione peered closer at it, picking up the sheet and looking over the list of ingredients scrawled in black ink.

"So tell us about yourself Miss Potter?" Malfoy asked as he leaned back in his chair, arm hanging loosely over back of it in a relaxed position.

"What?" Hermione replied distractedly, still pondering the list in her hands and what she should do with them.

"Tell us about yourself." He repeated, "You are quite the…enigma."

From across the table, Tom sneered at his own list, causing Hermione to look up in confusion. Deciding it was nothing to worry about, she turned back to Malfoy, trying to mask her inner frustration. It would be handy to have some of Tom's inner circle "friends" on her side…

"Not much to tell." She smiled in what she hoped was a friendly way, "I moved here from France, where I had went to school in Beauxbatons till the end of my fifth year."

"No attractive French accent for me then?" Malfoy responded smoothly, giving her a wink.

"Je n'ai pas un accent quand je parle l'anglais." **I don't have an accent when I am speaking English.** She told him, relishing his look of shock, he'd clearly thought he had her cornered with his probing questions and clear flirtation to get what he wanted, which was answers for Tom.

"Parlez vous le français?" **You speak French?** He asked her, excitement evident on his face.

"Oui, je peux." **Yes, I can.** Hermione said firmly, grateful for the fact she'd learnt French when she was younger thanks to countless trips to France with her parents, "Now can we get on with our work?" She continued smoothly, hoping that information would suffice.

It quickly became apparent that this Malfoy was no different to the one she had met before, meaning he felt he could smarm his way up to teachers, and simply left Hermione to complete the work whilst pestering her with questions masked with flirtatious smirks and winks. It was infuriating to say the least, and she found herself hacking at the ingredients with more force than was strictly necessary for the basic antidote she was preparing. In her day it was considered somewhat basic and taught to earlier years, however in this era, it was a relatively new development and was classed as an advanced potion due to the methods involved which were as yet not as common to the world of potion making.

This particular antidote had been one they'd taken to making great cauldrons full of during the war, it being a common thing to be needed throughout the day. Countless people were poisoned, and this most basic potion could delay the effects of some of the nastier poisons long enough for them to carry on fighting or work on a stronger dosage.

A single tear slid down her cheek as she remembered the masses of people she had administered this concoction to. There'd been people of all ages. Children screaming and writhing in agony in their parents arms as they were pinned down by healers and the antidote poured down their throats. There were adults too, mothers, fathers and friends. All of them weakened by the symptoms as they suffered and begged to die if only to relieve the pain. She'd seen fully grown men whimper for their mothers, and others refuse the potion because they couldn't stand the thought of living in this world anymore. A cruel world where they spent each day fighting to the point of exhaustion in the vain hope of living another day.

Wiping the tear away, Hermione stole a look around the room to check nobody had seen her moment of weakness. For a brief moment, she thought Tom had been watching her, but it turned out he was in fact asking Malfoy to pass him an ingredient.

When their time was finally up, Slughorn used a charm to make his voice heard above the sounds of potions bubbling and students cursing at their concoctions or partners.

"Times up, turn the heat of your cauldrons down and stand back." He boomed, smiling broadly at them all and beginning to walk around the classroom. Every so often he paused to sniff or stir a potion, whilst swiftly walking past others and offering weak smiles in the direction of some cauldrons whilst steering clear of the hissing potions emitting powerful odours.

When he reached the table Hermione was at he went to Tom's first, peering eagerly into the cauldron and giving him ten points as well as his partner for "a most excellent Draught of Living Death", then it was Hermione and Malfoys turn.

"Oho! What have we here?" he exclaimed excitedly, taking the ladle and stirring the potion once before holding it up to sniff it, "Smells like a near perfect antidote for several poisons." He beamed.

Nodding silently as she did not quite trust herself to speak just yet, Hermione watched Tom out of the corner of her eye, hoping her impressive skills would have the desired effect.

If she had wanted to lay low and escape his attention, it would have been all too easy to create a simple solution to mildly impress a teacher, but she'd hoped to catch the attention of Tom Riddle as well as Slughorn. Both of men would prove vital to her future and she needed to have their attention if she was to truly change the future into a better place.

"20 points to both Miss Potter and Mr Malfoy for a truly outstanding antidote and may I have a word at the end please Miss Potter?" Slughorn said loudly, pouring the potion back into the cauldron and staring at her for a while with something akin to awe, before turning back to the class as the bell rang signalling the end of lesson.

As the class filed out of the room, Hermione slowly gathered her things and pretended not to notice the fact Tom was dawdling and clearly trying to see what Slughorn wanted with her. He slowly siphoned his potion out of the cauldron, saving a small flask for himself for "Extra studies, Sir." And took his time putting his books an equipment away.

"I can't say I have ever had student make such an excellent potion first time in my class Miss Potter!" Slughorn enthused as she walked over to his desk to ask what he had wanted to see her for.

"Thank you Sir." She responded politely, the pride she felt inside only slightly acting.

"Occasionally I have a little… Get together, for talented students you understand?" Here Hermione nodded, knowing he was about to invite her to the Slug club. She'd been invited in her time too, and had sat through the boring meetings hating very minute. Things were different now though. She needed to do this.

"Yes Sir?"

"I was hoping you'd care to join us?" Noticing Tom hovering, Slughorn smiled at him too, "Mr Riddle here can attest to how delightsome they are can't you m'boy?"

Tom smiled, though naturally it did not meet his eyes, and bowed his head respectfully in her direction.

"Simply wonderful." He told her, turning back to Slughorn and smiling before leaving.


	6. Chapter 6

**Tom POV:**

It had been nearly two weeks since he had set those fools on the case of Hermione and Harry, but all they could find to report back to him was that Hermione studied a lot and was incredibly smart. They spoke often of how she could be attractive, if she tried harder with herself and Malfoy occasionally suggested the idea that perhaps she was hiding curves under the baggy school robes. At this point Tom had all but snarled as he hurled a silent hex in the general direction of Malfoy, his anger getting the better of him. It was only a moderate stinging hex, but it hit Malfoy in the crotch and he crumpled to the floor and whimpered pathetically for some time afterwards. There was silence for quite a while after this demonstration, nobody wanting to end up on the receiving end of a curse like that by saying something unsatisfactory with regards to elusive Miss Hermione Potter. Eventually Tom chose to spur them into action.

"I do not care for the hormonal ramblings of a sexually frustrated teenager." He began, circling the room and taking a while to meet the eyes of every person in the room, save Malfoy, whom he merely cast a disgusted look in his general direction. "I need real information regarding what our subjects are doing with their time. I want to know where they are from, what they do when nobody is watching," here he paused once more for effect, "Or rather, when they think nobody is watching."

Several people shuffled their feet awkwardly, shifting their weight from one foot to the other. From the back of the room, one person coughed whilst another sniffed. Resisting the urge to curse them all into oblivion for their stupidity, Tom exhaled slowly, looking down at the wand in his hand as he addressed them.

"Now… Does anybody have anything useful to report?"

The silence seemed to stretch on, until eventually a tall thin boy stepped forward into the pool of light.

"Miss Potter puts on a mask throughout the day, but at times you see it falter." Tom couldn't help but look up at the person who had spoken in interest, hanging on his every word.

"Continue." He said softly when silence had greeted his gaze.

The boy hesitated, biting down on his lower lip and running the tip of his tongue over the jagged flesh before responding.

"At times she goes distant, appears to go somewhere else entirely," Tom began to pace once more but beckoned him to continue his report, "It's like she goes empty."

A while later and Tom called the meeting to an end, not realising that they'd not once discussed Harry for longer than a minute or so and even then it had only been a member of the Quidditch team commenting on his excellent flying skills.

* * *

 **Hermione POV:**

"Mind if I take a seat here?" Hermione asked politely, smiling down at the person sat rigidly at the desk in the library. Tom Riddle did not startle at her voice, so he must have known she was approaching, and tore his eyes away from the book he had been reading to address her.

"Be my guest." He told her, adding a smile on the end as if it was an afterthought.

Hermione had been watching him for a while from in between the bookshelves as she browsed for a book to help her write an essay due next week for Professor Paver on a complicated Arithmancy problem he'd set them with the idea they would also write up how they had reached their conclusions so as to more easily assess where they were going wrong. Having already done this unit in her own time, Hermione was near certain she had not in fact done anything wrong in her method, but she'd opted to check the library for any extra help (on the off chance she may discover a new textbook in this era which had not survived to make it on the shelves at Hogwarts in her year). She'd not been disappointed.

"What are you reading?" Tom inquired as she took the seat opposite him. In answer she showed him her book, _Arithmancy; A Magical Discipline,_ to which he nodded, looking unsure as to how to proceed next.

"You like Arithmancy then I presume?" The question surprised Hermione somewhat, but she hid it well.

"Yes!" She said instead, "Love it, I mean… I never placed much value in the subject of Divination though, I find it too…" here she struggled to find the right words to describe the mind numbing drivel which had been her brief experience of Trelawney's lessons in her third year, "Woolly." She concluded after some time. Tom nodded thoughtfully, as though considering this.

"I've always heard that the ministry has a hall of prophecies, surely that must mean there is some truth in them though?" Hermione fought hard to stop the catch in her throat, Tom was mulling over the possibility that the subject of Divination was, as she put it, "woolly", as if he would form an opinion based on her thoughts on the matter. What if she could somehow influence his decision to hunt Harry down in the future by reminding him of the frailty of predicting the future?

"I prefer to place stock in solid facts and figures rather than the occult rituals of tea leaves and misty orbs."

"Arithmancy is also used to predict the future as well you know." Tom interrupted, not in a rude manner, merely as though he was fully invested in their discussion.

Struck by sudden inspiration, Hermione smiled at him.

"I like facts and figures and the method of working things out, but the future is never set in stone Tom." She'd not intended to say his name aloud, but somehow she had ended up saying it, and now hoped it would make him think deeper upon his own views on the matter by making it more personal and direct. He did look up more fully, and his eyes met hers in a measured stare. To an outsider it might have looked like two young people staring at each other fondly, words of love passing unspoken between them, but to Hermione she knew exactly what he was trying to do. Remembering the technique she had perfected in the war, she visualised a large brick wall in between her and Tom. Focusing on the wall so intently, she pictured the smooth red brown bricks blocking his pale features from view.

Tom gave no outward sign that he was frustrated at his lack of success at reading her thoughts, but Hermione heard the slight sharp intake of breath he hastily covered with another smile.

"When I was younger, I had a time turner to help me with all the subjects I was taking, and one of my friends pets died." Hermione allowed the image of Buckbeak to soar over her cleverly crafted brick wall so that Tom would know what he looked like, but she was careful to not let anything else get past, "We went back in time and saved him. If the future was set, we wouldn't have been able to do that."

"You have time travelled before?" Tom demanded, a commanding tone creeping into his voice like it had on the first day they'd met. Briefly, Hermione wondered if this could go badly, if this would lead him to discovering their secret. Hastily pushing these thoughts from her mind less they slip through her wall, Hermione simply nodded.

"I don't have it any more though." She added, noticing the glint in his eye upon seeing her admittance, "It was only whilst I was studying so many topics at once."

Tom appeared to struggle for something to say for a while, the disappointment in his eyes evident.

"What did you drop then?"

The question made the first genuine smile since she'd met Tom.

"Divination." She chuckled, even more when she saw a humorous smile grace the features of the future Dark Lord.

* * *

 **I think this is a shorter chapter than the others have been, but I wanted to have some more Tom and Hermione interaction going on, and I'm very very very tired right now so apologies for any poor writing in this chapter etc.**

 **Also, I know Hermione also drops Muggle Studies, but it worked better to leave it just as Divination so that Tom and Hermione could have a little bonding laugh together over it. Also I have a feeling times would be more prejudiced back then, and that Muggle Studies would be a more recent and liberal development. Not that I have any fact to back that up of course, just my personal view. Don't kill me, I'm not trying to take over J.K Rowling haha. x**


End file.
